Emotions
by The Grimmy Reaper
Summary: The events leading up to Jasper abandoning Peter and Charlotte. One-shot. Feelings, mostly. Trying something new. Jasper POV.


Jasper's POV. His story. Events leading up to him abandoning Peter and Charlotte.

This is just a random rant, me trying something new. Comment?

Disclaimer: STEPHENIE MEYER OWNS EVERYTHING!

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Emotional manipulation. That's my gift. That's what I do. That's how I define who I am. I'm not Jasper. I'm not a vampire. I'm not a soldier. I am a manipulator. I create feelings in others they may not understand. I've always felt my grasp on human nature and human emotions has been superior to others. My comprehension has far surpassed anyone else's. When it comes to my own feelings, though, I am lost. I can take the most complex of emotions and project it onto another being. I understand, I comprehend the emotions when I feel them through another, when I experience them secondhand. I can see logistically how to work through those feelings. I can see how to resolve issues when they are not my own. When my own feeling and issues are present, though, all logistics and resolutions evade me.

I had never entertained the thought that I might be numb. I had never thought that by only focusing on the emotions of others I had been denying my own feelings. I had never considered that I may have been creating a fortress around my emotional core blocking my feelings from leaving or allowing others to come inside and see how things truly affect me.. The only thing I've allowed myself to feel for so long is thirst, hunger, need. And when the need arises, I allow for anger, to be able to destroy foes. For what is a battle amongst the undead when there is no anger?

I found myself in a position I try to avoid. I was alone. There were no creatures around, apart from the occasional earthworm in the ground beneath me or a fly passing through. The emotional life of a gnat is not something comments need be made about, though. And it's not really much to experience. Their emotions are comparable to that of the buzz their wings make, a slightly annoying reminder of their existence. Other than the various emotions of minute creatures, I felt no outside influence for the first time in nearly a century.

I was in a small abandoned barn. A sudden downpour had soaked me, and I had taken shelter in the nearest place without humans for fear that my thirst might get the better of me again. As I sat, arms around my knees, back against the inside wall of the barn, and head slumped, I began to feel. It wasn't like I was used to. These emotions seemed stronger somehow. I sensed no one else near me. It was as if these emotions had appeared out of thin air. I felt self-loathing- despair, hate. What poor creature could be that miserable? A thought hit me.

It was me.

I was misery incarnate. I was the poor creature who hated himself, who hated everything. I closed my eyes, trying to block my feelings. I tried to focus on the gnat. I tried to feel like the earthworm. It wasn't working. The life surrounding me wasn't substantial enough to envelope me in secondhand feelings. My feelings were already too apparent to my senses. I could distinguish myself from others now, and I hated it. I hated me.

I dug my fingers into my head, almost clawing at my skull, trying to distract myself from my own feelings by causing myself pain. Damn this vampiric body and its superior brain. I could concentrate on the pain and my feelings because of it. Distractions would not come as easily to me anymore. Even a single handed battle against an army of newborns could not help me evade those emotions.

Instead of fighting any longer, I gave in. I let myself feel. I cradled my head in my hands as I was consumed by a century's worth of emotion.

I was a monster. A murderer. A soulless demon. How could I have allowed myself to be reduced to this heartless coldblooded animal? I thought back to the way I unthinkingly and emotionlessly lured my prey away and drained them of their life blood. What of their families? Their lives? They were people, human beings! They had names! They had desires, dreams, pasts, futures! I, in my selfish and unemotional lust for human blood, had taken that all away from them. How many families had I destroyed? How many lives had I ruined? But the question that was most prominent: How could I live knowing what a monster I was? How could I stand myself any longer?

But honestly, what was the solution to this dilemma? Die? Was I supposed to allow myself to be destroyed in battle? I doubted I could allow that to happen. My natural sense of self-preservation would consume me as it always did in battle. Was I to ask the Volturi to destroy me? They would refuse. They (Marcus in particular) longed for a power of my caliber in their guard. Was that the solution? To accept it and embrace the darkness? Or could I not accept what I had done in the past but rather learn from it and change who I was? Could there be a better way of living?

I sat in the barn for hours, feeling everything at once. My breathing was ragged and shaking. The rain had slowed down to a mild drizzle. My hair had began drying in thick messy golden clumps which hung in front of my eyes when I lifted my head. After several hours had passed, I opened my eyes and looked up. The setting sun was peeking out from the clouds, its rays gently caressing my skin. As a human, I had cherished the soft warm kiss of the nearly set sun upon my bare skin. Without thinking, I removed my shirt and stepped out into the meadow surrounding the barn. I laid down, my body almost completely hidden amongst the wildflowers. I said a gentle prayer, a hope, a wish. I hoped no humans would see me, that nobody would disturb this moment.

I could almost feel the diamonds dance across my flesh as the sun touched my vampiric skin. I could almost feel it shining. I closed my eyes and was immediately lost in the warmth, lost in the soft whisper of the wind. I felt frozen in time. I ddin't move. I didn't breathe. I didn't even think. It was almost a sleep-like state. In that moment, I knew. I could be different. I could be better. I had to, or I would never be able to stand myself.

I was tired of killing, tired of destruction. I knew I had to leave Peter and Charlotte to escape it though. And so I would. I would become a nomad, feeding only when necessary. I would try to only kill those deserving of death. I only hoped I had the strength. I opened my eyes. It was dark. I sat up and smiled. I wasn't peaceful yet, but at lease I had a direction, a goal. I stood up, put my shirt on and began to walk. Where? I had no idea. But it had to be better than the constant hell I was used to.


End file.
